Truth and Consequences
by Wuchel1
Summary: Companion piece to 'Lost in Translation' and 'Not Just Another Walk In The Park'. Finch inlists a reluctant Reese to help keeping up 'the cover'.


**Disclaimer:** The characters of _Person of Interest_ don't belong to me; I'm just borrowing them with no intention of gaining any profit.

**Author's notes:** This is a companion piece to my stories _'Lost in Translation'_ and _'Not Just Another Walk __In The Park'. _I suggest reading those stories first.

**Acknowledgments:** Huge thanks to my beta **scully1138**.

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**Truth and Consequences**

"I really don't understand what we are doing here, Harold." Reese said in a low murmur. The pitch of John's voice was slightly higher than usual and Harold Finch, who had learned to decipher the moods and mental states of his close employee by merely picking up on the minute changes of inflection and rhythm to John Reese's speaking pattern, had long ago catalogued that particular tone under the term _"whining"_.

Finch threw Reese a stiff sidelong glance, noting the taller man's puckered brow and the little lines around his mouth that only appeared when he disapproved of something, but – as usual – chose not to voice his resentments. "We are maintaining a cover, Mr. Reese." Finch replied equally low. He turned his attention back to where Bear was romping around within a cloud of fur, happily prancing around with his canine friends. At least one of them seemed to be enjoying himself.

Reese's quietly grumpy disposition was making Finch nervous but he did have to concede that John's bad temper wasn't without reason. After all, he hadn't played fair. He had left John in the dark as to their exact reason for meeting in the park - just texted Reese to meet him here as soon as he and Ms. Shaw had taken care of their latest Number. John's rendition of the _deer-caught-in-the-headlights_ look, which had almost been comical, turned quickly into one of deep betrayal, then into an ice cold stare that promised a slow and painful death when Finch eventually admitted that they were to meet up with Bernadette and her friends.

However Bernadette had been rather persistent with her pestering Finch into bringing his _"handsome man"_ (a term he was never going to disclose to Mr. Reese) along and had even increased her efforts after John's unfortunate literal run-in with Ms. Fluffles. Considering that John had made it clear that there was going to be no way he would voluntarily agree to this meeting ... well, Harold had been desperate.

The women and their dogs should be showing up any minute now, but Finch doubted that the scowl Reese was apparently planning on greeting them with would be in any way helpful.

"Quite frankly", Finch faked a quick smile in response to a waved greeting by a newly arrived dog owner and leaned slightly to his left into Mr. Reese's personal space before he continued with his admonition, "you could put up a little more effort. Bernadette and her friends might think you are not enjoying yourself."

"I'm not." Reese replied with the same tone to his voice as before and continued to stare sullenly ahead. Finch stifled the annoyed sigh that wanted to escape, but decided to better not push the subject. They stood in silence and Harold actually started to worry what kind of retribution John Reese - ex-Special Forces and ex-CIA operative, well versed in the use of all kinds of weaponry and torture techniques - was currently planning to bestow upon him at a later time. In hindsight, this really might not have been a good idea ... and Bernadette and her friends hadn't even arrived yet.

John softly blew out a breath and turned to inquiringly face Harold's profile. "Seriously, Harold. Why are we doing this?" To Harold's surprise John's voice didn't carry any accusation. He actually sounded more confused than anything else as he carried on. "This doesn't pertain to any of our cases. You could always, you know, just go to a different park where you wouldn't run the danger of running into Bernadette on a regular basis."

Finch pursed his lips. He completely agreed with John's assessment and knew it would probably be the wisest choice, but then again ...

"Bear ... likes this park." Harold said sounding almost a little uncertain, but his gaze grew fond as he watched the Malinois winning a tug-of-war against a Boxer. He turned his body to Mr. Reese, whose expression had softened considerably at Finch's words. "And he enjoys the company of Ms. Fluffles ..."

Reese had felt his anger at his employer's deception dissipate as he saw the unguarded smile grow over Finch's face as the smaller man fondly watched Bear. Considering the reluctance Harold had first displayed towards the dog when John introduced Bear he couldn't help but be amused at how fast Finch had been smitten by those big, brown, faithful eyes. The dog was definitely the soft spot for the both of them.

"So", Reese drawled, his features softened in mild amusement, "we are doing this for Bear then?"

Finch didn't reply, but he didn't have to, the sly expression on his face saying it all as he returned his gaze to the frolicking pack of dogs. Reese closed his eyes, shook his head slightly and sighed in defeat. "Alright." he breathed, opening his eyes in time to see a horse disguised as a Great Dane galloping in their general direction. "Look sharp, Harold. Enemy at three o'clock."

Harold snorted softly and twisted his upper body to look in the direction Reese had indicated. Sure enough, there was Bernadette - dressed in a particularly garish pink ensemble that John suspected could cause eye cancer if you were forced to look at it long enough - teetering on a set of ridiculously high heels and waving an exuberant greeting. "Yohoooo, Harold!"

Both Reese and Finch cringed. Bernadette's high pitched and incredibly grating voice was loud enough to easily carry through half of New York, turning the heads of people within a mile. Harold felt John's breath on the left side of his neck, as the taller man bent downwards, murmuring in Finch's ear with a slight undercurrent of threat back in his voice. "Bear had better appreciate this sacrifice, Finch."

"John!" Bernadette literally squealed in delight, the sound coming precariously close to bursting John's eardrums. "I can't believe it! You finally made it!" Bernadette stopped in front of the pair and was bouncing with excitement, which was quite the feat considering the balancing act those heels on the uneven park ground were requiring of her already.

John glanced at Finch, whose pained expression mirrored his own, silently prodding Harold to take over the talking. Getting the hint, Harold greeted the woman with his best well-mannered and most sincere voice. "Hello, Bernadette. We are both very glad to finally be here, too."

_Liar_, Reese thought, impressed at Finch's skills nevertheless. Bernadette beamed at them with a look that to Reese bordered way too much on the manic before launching into a high speed torrent of words. "The girls are going to be so excited. And, oh! Harold! Did you hear about what happened to Gladys at the Boutique down near 7th Ave. and W 37th St.? Oh my God, I'm telling you _they_ are not going to see _me _there any time soon. And then Rachel's son dropped a bombshell on her last week telling her he was moving in with his _ex-girlfriend_, can you believe it? ..."

John blinked at the never ending flood of words and disjointed thoughts. There was no way for either Harold or him to interject - not that he really had any ambitions to try. Within five minutes Reese's ears were ringing as the members of Bernadette's posse had arrived one by one, immediately chiming in with their sides of the stories. John noted how they had again expertly surrounded their prey - Harold and him - almost instinctively, leaving absolutely no route to escape.

Somehow, and Reese was really fuzzy on the details but he thought he remembered that it had something to do with his newly acquired horseshoe-sized paw prints on his jacket, Bernadette had managed to stealthily sidle over to John's side and attach herself to his left arm, affectionately patting his upper arm every once in a while. Even with her heels she didn't quite reach John's shoulder height and he couldn't shake the feeling that they looked like a very ridiculously ill-matched pair and the amused glances Finch didn't even try to hide only confirmed his suspicions.

John Reese felt totally out of his element, which quite frankly didn't happen very often. But what had shocked him the most was that Finch seemed to actually be holding his ground within that pack of gossipy and spoiled rich women. They seemed to be genuinely interested in his opinion about all sorts of things Reese couldn't care less about - from his thoughts about the latest Louis Vuitton collection to the best techniques and remedies in the removal of various kinds of stains from unhealthily expensive fabrics. And Finch definitely appeared to relish that at least for once someone appreciated his endless well of information - from the useful to the bizarre.

At least the role arrangement of their _"relationship"_ should be rather obvious, John thought slightly irritated as he suppressed the urge to check his watch for the 100th time within the last ... eternity. If he had to look and appreciatively hum at yet another "cute" picture of a spoiled rotten dog on another pink and sparkly iPhone he was seriously going to start shooting people. And he wasn't going to go for knee-caps, either.

John almost sighed out loud in relief when - finally - one of the women, Myrtle, remarked that it was getting late. Like it had been the secret password, the pack of women immediately scattered in order to hunt down their oh so well-behaved and trained dogs. Bernadette's shrill calls for Ms. Fluffles drowned out everyone else.

Finally able to drop all pretense, Reese scowled as he tried to massage the life back into his abused arm. Finch stepped up beside him, hands in his coat pocket and his expression carefully blank as he took in John's slightly disheveled appearance. A smirk fought to break out onto his face, as he remembered Ms. Fluffles' exuberant greeting that John had endured. "It appears Ms. Fluffles really has taken a shine to you, Mr. Reese."

Looking down at himself and his ruined suit and back up at Harold, John fixed narrowed eyes on his employer. "You secretly enjoy this", John rasped, indicating the park with a wave of his hand, "don't you Harold?"

"It is a change of pace." Harold admitted with a small shrug. That Mr. Reese had not enjoyed this little outing had been clear by the way he'd portrayed himself as the poster boy of a man suffering in silence all throughout. The only thing Harold could hope for was when the time came for retribution that John would have mercy on him.

"And sometimes", Harold said, hoping his explanation would help mitigate his later sentencing, "it is nice to be reminded that there are still people out there with problems so inconsequential compared to what we are facing every day."

Again, John felt his anger dissipate. He really couldn't argue with Finch's reasoning, but still - "Just ... don't drag me along next time, please?"

"Don't worry", Finch dryly responded to Reese's plea, "you are already ruining enough suits as it is. We don't need Ms. Fluffles to contribute to that any further."

John snorted softly, turning back to the park and let off a loud and sharp whistle. The effect was instantaneous as Bear _and_ Ms. Fluffles obediently came running with a heavily panting Bernadette in tow.

All the other women had already succeeded in catching their pets and had bid their goodbyes.

"Well", Bernadette said after she managed to gain a modicum of air back into her lungs, "this was nice. We really should do it again." She stood in front of them, wrestling with her dog to get the leash clipped to her collar. When she finally succeeded she beamed at the two men again, causing Reese's discomfort levels to soar up once more. "And John, you hardly said anything at all!"

At Bernadette's accusing tone John's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. How could he have talked with Bernadette and her friends yapping away non-stop? But, true to her form, Bernadette didn't leave enough time for any interjection, already moving on to the next subject.

"I guess it's true what they say about opposites attracting each other. I mean, you two are sooo different. I know it's none of my business, but may I ask how you to met?"

"Ehm, we ..." Caught off guard by the question, Harold's mind was racing for a plausible story, but he was surprised when Mr. Reese beside him spoke up.

"Actually, it wasn't that much about _meeting_ but _finding_", John said softly, piquing even Harold's interest about where he was going with this. "A couple of years ago I went through a rough patch in my life. And Harold -" John turned to look at Finch with an expression of deep adoration, which made Finch start to worry where he_ really _was going with this. "Harold found me and literally picked me up from the streets. He gave me a reason to live again."

"Aaaaaaaaaaaw." Bernadette was completely taken and Finch could feel his ears and cheeks burning in embarrassment.

Apparently Reese wasn't done yet making him uncomfortable, because he wound his arm around a surprised Finch's lower back and pulled him in a half-sided embrace - despite Harold's squirming. "I know he saved my life."

With the total conviction in John's voice and the smitten smile he conjured on his face John had Bernadette in a puddle of romantic yearning. "Aaaw, that is _so_ adorable."

There was a worrying gleam of mischief in Reese's eyes before he turned to face Bernadette, tightening the embrace by pulling Finch even more against his side. "And I knew he was a keeper when he tied me to a bed on our second date."

The smile on Bernadette's face literally froze and Harold's breathing turned stertorous as his mind processed Mr. Reese's seriously deadpanned words.

"Oh", Bernadette was obviously fighting hard to keep her smile in place and for once was at a loss for words. "That's ... nice."

"He's joking." Harold tried to explain with a reasonable voice, but John was only too happy to object.

"Oh, but he did."

After an awkward pause where Bernadette's eyes looked practically everywhere but at the two men in front of her she cleared her throat. "Well, Harold ... John, I have to go. See you next time." She tugged at her dog's leash and wobbled away from them as fast as she could.

"Bye." John said in a soft amused sing-song, watching her go and tightening his grip around a squirming Harold Finch.

"Mr. Reese, I think you can let go of me now." Harold huffed. "And why would you say something like that?" Finch knew that within the next five minutes all of the women in Bernadette's clique would know about what John had said, making it nearly impossible for him to show his face around the park without living through a series of rather awkward moments for the next couple of weeks.

John let go of Finch, regarding the flustered man with an innocent look. "Just maintaining the cover, Harold."

Finch gaped at John for a few seconds, not entirely sure how to respond or if he even should.

"Well", John's moment of triumph was rather short lived as Shaw's silky, smooth, emotionless voice purred from behind them. He shot an extremely dismayed looking Harold a silent apology then turned to Shaw, who stood with her arms crossed over her chest. "I'd like to say that I'm surprised, but ...", she shrugged indifferently.

"Shaw." John said softly, his tone bearing both a greeting and a question - _What the hell are you doing here?_

She drew closer with a predatory smile on her face. "You know, I don't really care what you two do in your free time -"

"Ms. Shaw I assure you -" Shaw held up her right hand, stopping Finch's desperate attempt at explaining the situation mid-sentence.

"- but I have to say this _did_ make for a great sound-bite." She held her cell phone up and waved it in front of John, her smile spreading even more across her face. "It _really_ complements the pictures I took."

While Finch sounded like he was about ready to have a full-blown asthma attack, John just looked at her indifferently, then turned to Finch. "Let's go, Harold."

Shaw fell in step with them, latching herself onto John's arm and fluttered her eyelashes at him just like Bernadette had done. That in itself was the scariest thing John had seen in quite a while.

"Now John", she purred into his ear, making the hair on his neck rise, "let's talk about our arrangement of you buying me food whenever and whatever I want for the rest of my life, before Zoe finds out about the two of you. Shall we?"

_The End_


End file.
